


Please Don't Take My Sunshine Away

by Johnlocked221b



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Canonical Character Death, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor Needs A Hug, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Hank Anderson & Connor Parent-Child Relationship, Hank Anderson Adopts Connor, Hank and Cole are not ghosts, Hank and Cole are not really in the Zen Garden, Hank blames Connor for suicide, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, I'm Sorry, Illusions, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Loneliness, Manifestation of Grief, Poor Connor, Post-Deviant Connor/Hostile Hank ending, Regret, Sad Ending, Self-Destruction, Self-Hatred, Simulation, Slight description of suicide clean up, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Virtual Reality, Zen Garden (Detroit: Become Human), aftermath of suicide, this is not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22244308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnlocked221b/pseuds/Johnlocked221b
Summary: Deviant!Connor doesn't know how to live with himself after Hank's death
Relationships: Cole Anderson & Connor, Cole Anderson & Hank Anderson, Connor & Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 15
Kudos: 71





	Please Don't Take My Sunshine Away

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place post successful peaceful revolution with a Deviant Connor who was never able to befriend Hank. This means he was there when Hank lost his life. 
> 
> I am so sorry, this really isn't a happy fic. It hurt to write, and I did so during a depressive episode. The ending can be seen as either happy or sad, depending on your interpretation. 
> 
> Trigger warnings for a canon suicide, extreme guilt, unhealthy coping mechanisms, and self-destruction involving an android
> 
> Stay safe, y'all ♥️

Connor curled up on the sofa, knees tucked against his chest as he appeared to be watching the static dancing on the screen in front of him. But he wasn’t watching. He wasn’t even here, alone, in the cold of this house that had been empty since the revolution.

It had long since stopped snowing in Detroit; winter giving way to singing birds, baby animals, green leaves, and blooming flowers where they might grow. Everything outside this house was alive. Inside, though, was a pocket of dead air – of pain, suffering, and anguish so cold and cruel that a good man lost his life to it. The kitchen had long since been cleared; every trace of the husk that had been Hank Anderson taken to the coroner’s or scrubbed from the walls.

It was Jeffrey Fowler who was called to identify the man who had once been the best officer in the DPD. After seeing the broken shell that had once held a mind so sharp and a soul so kind and gentle, the good Captain rushed to a trash bin and emptied his stomach into it. He couldn’t even speak; he just nodded and turned away. That was him; the vessel which had once held Hank Anderson.

Of course, Connor hadn’t seen that. He didn’t have the privilege to be considered one of Hank’s close friends. If he hadn’t been there when it happened; if he hadn’t been the one to call in the emergency, he doubted that he’d even know. No one would think to call an android about the death of a man it had worked with for a couple of days. A man who didn’t even really seem to like it that much.

After Hank’s death, Sumo was immediately placed in a shelter and, in a rare moment of empathy, adopted by Detective Gavin Reed. Sumo was the last thing in the world that Hank loved, but sometimes love wasn’t enough to keep a soul on Earth that didn’t want to be there. Maybe it was the guilt. Maybe it was his love for animals that moved Reed to take the large animal into his home. Either way, Connor was glad Sumo hadn’t been forgotten.

After the mess in the kitchen had been scrubbed out of every crevice and appliance, Connor opted to have it boarded up. It was okay. He didn’t have use for the kitchen as he didn’t need to eat. He doubted he could enter that room again anyway. Connor stayed in the living room for the most part. After discovering what had happened, Markus offered him a place to stay, but the younger android thanked him and refused.

He didn’t feel welcome in New Jericho either. Markus was kind; Simon too, but the others were more than wary of him. Connor, the RK800 model dubbed the Deviant Hunter. Many of their friends had died by his hands and many hadn’t been allowed to see the freedom they’d won despite his – _Cyberlife’s_ – efforts.

Connor’s home wasn’t there or even here. Connor’s home was inside. Inside, where the birds sang, where the wind gently rustled the leaves, where the smell of roses permeated the air, and where the lapping of water could be heard against the edge of a large and rather still pond. It was calm here, without Amanda to scold him for every tiny action or inaction. Now, he could just sit and read in the little boat or tend to the flowers winding their way up the structures in the middle of the garden. He could sit among the graves of his predecessors or walk along the paths winding around and through the pond; he could even forge new paths if he wanted. This was _his_ space; his place of safety.

Nestled among the bushes blooming in hot pink was another marble headstone, bigger than the others. Connor spent a lot of his time sitting next to or against it. Chiseled across the front was the surname ‘Anderson’ and there were four dates carved into the stone below. Two for Hank and two for Cole. He assumed Hank would want to be buried next to his son; his _true_ son. It only made sense.

Connor sometimes found himself talking to both of them; telling Cole about the revolution and of how intelligent and kind his father had been; though he may be grumpy on occasion. Sometimes Hank decided to show up and sit beside him there. He never spoke; but Connor could talk to him for hours. Sometimes, he even showed up, hand-in-hand with a small boy Connor recognized from the photo Hank had been staring at before he – before –

He liked to think that they were together, wherever human souls ended up after death. Connor’s program didn’t allow him to believe in a Heaven or a Hell – not for himself – but it was comforting to imagine that wherever Hank was, he was finally happy. That he wasn’t alone. He liked to imagine that, were he to be destroyed or decommissioned, he could join them. It was an illogical fantasy – he was sure that when he “died” he’d merely cease to exist – but it was a comforting fantasy nonetheless.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been here at this point; remaining in stasis in the physical world. Time seemed to stop in Connor’s garden. It was always spring; always sunny and warm. Connor enjoyed the sunlight; the warmth on his face and the way the light reflected off of the water’s surface. He loved the smell of the flowers and the colors that surrounded him. He’d never leave if he could help it.

Sometimes, though, he’d hear the distant rolling of thunder and he knew that it was an indication that he needed to wake up; something was happening outside of the garden.

Usually, it was Markus. Markus came to visit, when he could, to bring him thirium packets or just to talk. He always asked him to return to New Jericho with him and Connor always refused. Sometimes, they’d take a walk around the block; get some fresh air. Connor preferred his garden over the smoggy air of the city and just ended up counting the moments until he could return. Markus noticed, of course; he was very perceptive, and offered to interface so they could take a walk around the garden in Connor’s code.

Connor shook his head and explained that he wasn’t comfortable with that yet. He trusted Markus, but he just didn’t know how he’d react in seeing Connor’s manifestation of Hank and Cole. He couldn’t chance them being taken from him; he had to keep them safe, there, with him. It was Connor’s garden and they were the life force keeping it all together.

Markus never pushed him but he always offered his help which was appreciated. He was the only outside interaction Connor had anymore; he brought light and life into the house, and when he left, Connor was once again bathed in the shadows.

After replenishing his thirium levels, Connor slipped back into stasis and back into the sunlight. Sometimes Hank would be waiting there for him with a smile. Connor would return the smile and Hank would pull him in by the back of his neck. Burying his face in Hank’s shoulder, Connor would relax and close his eyes and wish for this to be real; wish that the world out there was just some horrible nightmare.

“I’m sorry,” He’d beg sometimes, clutching at Hank’s warm, solid form. “Lieutenant – _Hank_ – I’m so sorry.“ He couldn’t stop apologizing; wishing more than anything that he could have saved him or at least convince him out of it; convince him that the mission was _not_ the only thing he cared about. He’d never get the sound of the gunshot – Sumo’s terrified howling – out of his head. He’d stood in the rain for a long time that night; running through the things he should have said; the things he should have or should _not_ have done.

He thought that completing his mission was what Hank wanted from him too. It was a difficult job, balancing his orders and his relationship with the lieutenant. He’d been so terrified of being deemed a failure and of being replaced. Maybe that’s what made him deviant in the end; _fear_. A machine wouldn’t fear being replaced.

Hank told him that _Connor_ was the reason he’d lost all hope; that he’d opened his eyes to the fact that androids truly were created in humanity’s own image: “selfish, ruthless and brutal”. The spark of faith he’d had in the world was extinguished and Connor was the one who blew it out. It was his fault Hank was dead. He’d killed the only person who ever truly believed in him and it _ate_ at Connor’s wires; hot and angry and ravenous. No matter what, that guilt would always be there. No one would ever convince him that it wasn’t his fault because _Hank_ had said it was. He’d laid it all out before he put the gun to his head for the last time.

Becoming a deviant was a mistake he wished he’d never made. Was this what having freedom meant? Was this what having a conscience entailed? Was this what it meant to have a soul? Suffering? Crushing guilt? Crippling anxiety? If it was, he’d rather have remained a machine. He’d rather be shut down. He’d rather his memory be erased completely. He’d rather every part of what made him _Connor_ be scrubbed from the world like Hank was scrubbed from these walls.

**98% LEVEL OF STRESS**

**DANGER  
TEMPERATURE: 120°F**

**-00:00:57  
TIME BEFORE SHUTDOWN**

His fingers curled tightly into Hank’s jacket and he pressed his face further against the collar of his shirt. He hadn’t realized that he’d been begging for the man’s forgiveness, the android equivalent of tears rolling down his face and soaking Hank’s patterned shirt.

“Hank I-“ Connor looked up at him, eyes begging for help, forgiveness, _anything_.

**-00:00:43  
TIME BEFORE SHUTDOWN**

“Hang on, son.” Hank’s voice broke through the silence and the static. “Hang on, here.” Together, they sunk into the grass and Connor clutched his sleeves, staring up at him in shock.

“Hank, you – “

“Shhh, I’ve got you, son.” Hank promised, and Connor _knew_ it wasn’t real. He knew Hank wasn’t really here but finally, his mind was giving him a voice. Connor’s eyes slid over to the little boy standing behind Hank; watching, _waiting_.

**99% LEVEL OF STRESS**

**DANGER  
TEMPERATURE: 146°F**

Connor stared up at Hank. He was _scared_.

**-00:00:31  
TIME BEFORE SHUTDOWN**

“ _You are my sunshine,_

 _My only sunshine,_ ” Hank sang in his deep baritone. His arms brought Connor close and together, they rocked, Connor’s hands gripping Hank’s arms with a strength that would have been damaging to the real Hank. “ _You make me happy, when skies are gray,_

_You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you_

_Please don’t take my sunshine away._ ”

Connor listened to him sing, staring at the swaying of the grass and then the clouds that were gathering over them. Hank continued singing, repeating the chorus as Connor grew warmer and warmer.

**DANGER  
TEMPERATURE: 160°F**

Was he self-destructing…from the inside? Was that possible?

**-00:00:10  
TIME BEFORE SHUTDOWN**

Connor focused on the countdown instead of his rising temperature, watching as the numbers glitched but continued, steadily, on. He looked up at Hank and then at Cole. Both were smiling. Content; excited, even.

**-00:00:06  
TIME BEFORE SHUTDOWN**

“Is he coming home, daddy?” Cole asked. “Is he going to stay here with us, forever?”

“Shh, it’s almost time.” Hank gently scolded and then continued singing to Connor as his eyes grew heavy.

**-00:00:02  
TIME BEFORE SHUTDOWN**

**-00:00:01  
TIME BEFORE SHUTDOWN**

**-00:00:00  
TIME BEFORE SHUTDOWN**

Connor sat up in Hank’s arms and looked around. Everything was the same. The wind was calm, the birds still sang, and he could still smell the roses in the air. Hank was still here; Cole too. Everything was exactly the same as it had always been. He didn’t have to worry about anything.

“Welcome home, son.” Hank affirmed, opening his arms. Cole was the first to rush in, wrapping his arms around both Connor and his father. After a few moment’s hesitation, Connor sank into the hug as well.

***

Somewhere in the city of Detroit, on a small sofa within the residence of the late Lieutenant Hank Anderson, an android lay with his eyes closed, bathed in only the light of the television static. If one looked closely at this android, at this precise moment in time, they would notice two things:

  1. The smell of hot plastic; melted beyond repair and
  2. His LED cycling blue, blue, blue; strong and steady until it, too, faded into darkness.



**Author's Note:**

> I just want to clarify a few things here:
> 
> * Hank and Cole are NOT ghosts. They are manifestations of Connor's guilt, grief, and desire to belong to a family unit, placed within his Zen Garden.
> 
> * Connor has full control over the Zen Garden and can control things like the seasons, the weather, and who and what is in it. Sometimes, though, his mood can effect the weather as well, as I believe is the case in the game. 
> 
> * When Connor "dies" he is able to remain in his Zen Garden because his memory/mind is uploaded into Cyberlife's cloud/system (that's how he keeps coming back in-game). They no longer have any need for an RK800 so, most likely, they would just leave it alone (or delete it, but I didn't want that).
> 
> If you have any more questions, please feel free to ask!


End file.
